Captive Hearts
by BloodRedEnd
Summary: Five years after HBP Harry is captured by Voldemort and guarded by none other than Severus Snape. Can Harry convince Snape to return to the light side and help him defeat Voldemort? slash
1. Chapter 1

This is my first story that actually takes HBP into consideration. It happens five years after HPB. It was originally meant to be a one-shot, but somehow it grew to be four chapters long. I have the whole story written up already, I'll most likely post a chapter every week, or maybe a shorter amount of time. Reviews are very much appreciated.

**Warnings:** Slash, HPSS, mentions of adult situations, there might be one or two swears in there.

**Disclaimer:** The characters and related paraphernalia in this story do not belong to me. Only the plot does.

**Chapter One**

Harry sighed as he paced the length of the cell that had held him for the past few days. He glanced out the high, barred window to the grey sky outside. He couldn't believe he had been stupid enough to walk right into Voldemort's trap! Slamming his fist into the wall he slumped to the ground, head in his hands. The captivity was beginning to get to him.

It had been many years since that fateful day when Dumbledore, Harry's mentor, was killed, nearly four to be exact. That day, he felt, had been the turning point in his life. He had never returned to Hogwarts after sixth year, instead leaving the Dursley residence at midnight on his birthday and immediately seeking out someone willing to train him in any and all sorts of defense and offense. He had spent what would have been his final year at Hogwarts brutally training in everything from defensive magic to curses to muggle defense, and even dabbling in the dark arts. Anything to defeat Voldemort.

During, and even more so after his year of training, Harry had searched high and low for the remaining horcruxes. All of them had been located and destroyed - all but one. Harry had yet to destroy Nagini, Voldemort's faithful pet and what he believed to be the final horcrux. And now, so close to his goal, he had been captured, and it would probably be some time until it was discovered that he was missing. He kept his contact with others to a minimum, driven solely by his desire to destroy Voldemort before he destroyed any more of Harry's loved ones.

Before Harry could properly begin to wallow in self-pity, the door to his cell was thrown open. Voldemort, along with several other Death Eaters entered. As Harry caught sight of Nagini slithering around Voldemort's feet, he thought that perhaps captivity could work to his advantage.

"Bind him tightly." Voldemort ordered. Two Death Eaters stepped forward and ropes shot out of their wands, wrapping themselves painfully around Harry's body, pinning his arms to his side and binding his ankles. Voldemort cast _crucio_ on Harry, leaving the curse on for quite some time. Harry refused to scream however. Once the curse was removed, Harry scowled and struggled to his knees.

"I trust you know what to do with him?" Voldemort said to yet another Death Eater. The masked man nodded and stepped forward, gripping Harry's shoulder painfully. "I know you do not particularly fancy the killing my other Death Eaters do so enjoy, so I will give you the task of guarding Potter." he addressed the Death Eater before turning to Harry. "You will live for now, Potter, but I have plans for you. Enjoy your last few weeks of life, while you can. I'll see you at the solstice." Voldemort sneered, just before the Death Eater pulled out a portkey and the two of them were whisked away.

Harry grunted slightly as they landed hard in yet another dungeon. He fell to the ground as his bound limbs caused him to lose his balance easily. He watched guardedly as the Death Eater that had brought him here removed his mask and hood, revealing a face Harry could have lived without ever seeing again.

"Snape." He spat, struggling against the ropes.

"Potter." Snape acknowledged, no emotion in his voice at all, not even hatred or disdain.

"I swear if I wasn't tied up I would strangle you to death with my bare hands!" Harry hissed. Snape was silent a moment, staring stiffly at the opposite wall, facing away from Harry.

"You are hardly in the position to be making threats, Potter." Snape sneered before leaving the cell, locking it behind him and leaving Harry very confused. That man he had just seen couldn't possibly be Snape. Where was the condescending smirk, the cruel sarcasm, the scathing vitriol? Where were the insults and the taunting? He had Harry completely at his mercy and hadn't made one jibe at him.

With a shake of his head Harry turned his thoughts back to Voldemort, trying to figure out his plan. He had obviously sent Harry to a lesser used hideout, where he had less of a chance of being found, most likely because of the comment about enjoying his last few weeks. Whatever he had planned wasn't happening until the solstice.

Harry knew that the summer solstice was one of the times when magic was at it's strongest. Many families, especially the purebloods who were still heavily into traditions of older times, had large celebrations during the solstice. The rituals had been forgotten by many of the more "modern" families, however, along with many other practices of old.

Voldemort could be planning any number of things at that time of year. Harry was pretty sure it would ideally result in his death, however. A ritual sacrifice, perhaps? If he was using the Dark Arts, as he most likely was, he was probably planning to both kill Harry, ensuring his immortality, and absorb Harry's considerate amount of magic.

There were many ancient practices like that leftover from times long, long ago. Back then, when a wizard conquered one of his rivals, it was common practice to not only kill him, but absorb his magic, ensuring the victor's continued superiority. That sort of thing seemed exactly like something the very dramatic Dark Lord would attempt.

Harry scowled. He had to find out exactly what ritual Voldemort was planning, and try to mess it up. Without access to a library, however, that would prove next to impossible to do. His thoughts turned to Snape.

Back in his sixth year, after Dumbledore's funeral, there had been a reading of the will. Dumbledore had left Harry his pensieve, filled to the brim with memories, both useful and not useful. His favorites, the ones that had brought him to tears of happiness, had been the memories of his parents from their school days. Memories of the pranks the Marauders pulled, memories of a time when they were alive, together and happy.

But there had also been memories that had helped him greatly with the fight against Voldemort. They had been some of the biggest clues in leading him to the remaining horcruxes. Along with those memories had been memories of a younger Severus Snape. Memories of the day he came to Dumbledore begging to be helped, to leave the Death Eaters and Voldemort.

Leaving those memories in the pensieve were Dumbledore's way of telling Harry that Snape needed to be trusted. The man might seem like a traitor, like he was loyal to Voldemort, but it wasn't true. Harry hadn't believe him at the time, though. He still wasn't sure if he believed him. He couldn't forget that moment when the killing curse had left Snape's wand.

Now, however, Harry recalled those memories to the front of his mind. Snape had never enjoy the torture that Voldemort and the other Death Eater's reveled in inflicting on others. Instead, Voldemort had offered him rare ingredients and expensive laboratories to experiment and brew potions in, in exchange for making new poisons for him. He had offered him a way to be feared and respected instead of belittled and ridiculed. Snape had accepted, not knowing the full extent of what he was getting himself into.

Harry still didn't know why Dumbledore had trusted Snape so completely, nor why Snape had killed him. From the looks of things in the few memories of Snape Dumbledore had given to Harry, he cared for Dumbledore even more than Harry himself had. Perhaps he could be swayed to help Harry? From the memories, Harry had got the feeling that Snape greatly disliked the physical torture of others. From what he had just seen of Snape, the five years of serving only Voldemort once more had taken their toll on him.

**XxXxXxXxXxXxX**

In the morning, Harry was woken by the door of his cell being opened. He decided now was the best time to implement his plan. Last night he had decided to try and gain Snape's trust, to get the man to help him. He could put aside his hatred for a bit if it meant the defeat of Voldemort at last. Snape entered silently, putting down a tray with a meager portion of food and water before turning to leave again.

"Wait." Harry said, and Snape stopped, but didn't turn back. "Will you please untie me?" Harry asked. He worked hard to push all his hatred of the man aside.

"And what of the promise you made last night?" Snape asked.

"I was shocked. Dumbledore trusted you," At these words Snape visibly tensed, "So there must be some redeeming quality about you." Harry said, somewhat bitterly.

"Or he could have just been a senile old fool." Snape said derisively. Despite his words, he waved his wand and without a word the ropes disappeared. Before Harry could react Snape was out of the room and the door was once more locked. Harry sighed and turned to his breakfast.

For the next few days Snape brought Harry meals three times a day. He had obviously been assigned the task of being Harry's keeper until Voldemort could perform the ritual. Every day Harry tried to pierce the man's emotionless exterior. Occasionally he got a reaction, but never what he was looking for.

"You never liked torture, did you?" Harry asked one day. He was still looking for a sign that Snape could be trusted, could be turned back to the light side.

"And why do you say that?" He asked, as if it were a ridiculous accusation.

"Any other Death Eater would have cursed me every time he brought me food. He probably wouldn't have brought me food three times a day either." Harry said matter-of-factly.

"My Lord has made it clear that you are to be kept safe until he has a use for you." Snape said.

"Safe doesn't necessarily mean you can't curse me. Safe doesn't mean I have to be healthy and well-fed." Harry said.

"Would you like me to curse you, Potter?" he asked, a hint of anger seeping into his voice.

"You never liked torturing people, just brewing potions. Dumbledore left me his pensive, there was a memory of you. You became a spy because you didn't like torture. You hate me, you probably only agreed to be my keeper because it means you get out of the raids and the torturing until the solstice." Harry said.

"Ever consider that I had no choice in the matter?" Snape sneered. "Or are you too much of a Gryffindor still?" he asked, somehow making the word Gryffindor sound like the dirtiest word in the world.

"He said you didn't care for it, Snape. What do you think will happen if Voldemort succeeds in killing me? You think he'll stop all the torture, the killing? He wont stop until he rules the whole globe, Snape. Do you really want to live in a world run by that maniac?" Harry asked.

"And just what to you propose I do about it? Incase you haven't noticed, I have a lovely brand burned into my flesh." Snape said harshly, a look of pure venom on his face. Now there was a bit of the man Harry remembered.

"Help me. Come back to the light side. I know how to defeat him, and if you help me I'll make sure you stay out of Azkaban once Voldemort falls for good." Harry said emphatically. Snape was silent for a moment before sweeping out of the room. Harry sighed. He had thought for sure he had something there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The next day when Snape brought Harry his meal, Harry didn't try to speak to him, but neither did Snape immediately leave. He sat in a corner on a conjured armchair, watching Harry with that calculating stare he remembered from his days as a student. That stare that made you want to squirm, made you feel as if he was looking into your very soul and judging you worthy of attention or not.

"You are sure you can defeat him?" Snape asked at last.

"Almost positive." Harry said.

"How?" Severus asked.

"How do I know you won't report what I know to Voldemort and ruin my plan?" Harry asked.

"Wizard's honor." Snape said without hesitation and without sarcasm, crossing his wand over his chest. Hope welled up in Harry. Could Snape be willing to help him? If he was, Harry knew telling him the truth was essential to gaining his trust.

"Horcruxes. Voldemort made horcruxes, several of them, which is why he didn't fully die when the killing curse rebound on him. Dumbledore, and later on I, located and destroyed all but one, but I know what the last one is. All I need to do is destroy it, shoot a killing curse at Voldemort, and he's gone." Harry said.

"It seems too simple." Snape said.

"It's not. It's taken me all of these past five years to find all the horcruxes, and it will be near impossible to hit him with a killing curse if he's not weakened or distracted." Harry said. "All I need now is a way to mess up the ritual, and hopefully keep myself alive long enough to get that chance I need to hit him with the curse." Harry said.

"Ritual?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow in question

"It's pretty obvious. Most likely he's planning to ritually sacrifice me, a dark ritual probably. He'll kill me and absorb my magic, making himself even more powerful and possibly even immortal."

"It's a miracle. That thick skull of yours actually holds something capable of deductive reasoning." Snape said dryly. Harry scowled but held back the comment he wanted to make. He needed Snape's cooperation. Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry's silence, surprised.

"As much as I hate it, I am at your mercy, Snape." Harry forced himself to say, a slight growl in his voice. "I need your help." he added quietly. Snape was quiet for a moment, contemplating.

"Most ritual sacrifices, especially the darker ones, require the sacrifice of an innocent." he said quietly, and Harry knew from the tone of voice that he had agreed to help.

"Just an innocent, or a virgin?" Harry asked.

"Both if possible." he said.

"I don't know how innocent I can be considered, especially since I've cast Dark Magic, but I am a virgin." Harry said.

"And I care why, Potter?" Snape sneered.

"How badly would it mess up the ritual if I wasn't a virgin?" Harry asked. Snape considered the question for a moment before answering.

"Sacrifice of an impure soul in a dark ritual would taint the magic. The pure soul balances out the Dark Magic. With an impure soul, the balance of good and evil would be thrown off and the Dark Magic would backlash upon the caster, weakening and possibly killing them."

"That's it then." Harry said.

"What?"

"You need to fuck me." Harry said bluntly.

"Must you be so crude, Potter?" Snape sneered.

"Fine, I need you to take my virginity." Harry replied, rolling his eyes.

"You're insane."

"It's the only way." Harry stated

"It can't be the only way." Snape said, an almost desperateness in his tone.

"Fine, it's the easiest way. It doesn't need to be all lovey-dovey sappy and romatic, I don't care at this point. I just want that bastard gone, and this is too good of an opportunity to pass up."

"In case you haven't noticed, we are both men." Snape said with a sneer.

"I don't care, I swing both ways."

"I'm old enough to be your father." Snape said, obviously grasping at straws to sway Harry away from this idea.

"Why do you refuse so adamantly?" Harry asked. Snape was silent, glaring at Harry. Once more he swept out of the cell. He didn't return for the rest of the day. He couldn't face Harry.

Up in his own luxurious rooms, Snape considered the odd conversation he had just had. Potter had just offered to have sex with him, to offer up his virginity to a man he couldn't stand, just to defeat the Dark Lord. Obviously the boy didn't know how powerful sex could be when combined with magic, especially when one was a virgin. Losing your virginity was not to be taken lightly. A wizard's magic changed when they lost their virginity, witches too. No one really knew why, though.

Snape sighed to himself. He had thought long and hard about Harry's proposal. Snape did not like the life he led. He did not like serving the Dark Lord. While his ideals had seemed noble and a good idea at first, the way he went about it turned Severus away. That, and the man was absolutely crazy with power. That was why he had gone to Dumbledore. He wanted a way out. Instead, he gained a second master who was just as crazy as the first, though in a different way.

Instead of getting a way out of the Death Eater's, his life only became more dangerous as he began to spy. Dumbledore had complete control over his life. With a few words, Dumbledore could end his life, either by turning him into the Ministry as a Death Eater, or turning him into the Dark Lord as a spy. Snape had to obey the man's every whim for fear of his life.

How could he be sure that Potter wouldn't become another master if he went through with this? He had killed Dumbledore, Potter must still be furious with him for that. He could simply use Snape to kill the Dark Lord and then turn him into the ministry to receive the Dementor's kiss.

There was always the option of asking the Dark Lord to send him a muggle, saying he needed a test subject for some new potion. Potter would never go along with it, though. He was too noble, and it would be too much like rape for Potter to take.

In the morning, Snape's decision was clear to him. He went down to Harry's cell and tied his wrists, mostly to ensure he wasn't being tricked, though he didn't think he was, and led the boy into the upper portion of the house he was being kept in.

"Take a bath and change into the clothing on the bed. Have some good food and get some decent sleep. I will help you, but we will not act like Gryffindors and jump right into things without thinking." Snape said, removing the rope. Harry didn't argue. A bath and a comfortable bed sounded like an excellent idea right about now.

Harry woke late in the morning the next day. Not sure of what to do, he put on the clean clothing Snape had left in the room and slowly wandered through the house. It was a large house, not quite a manor, but big enough to get lost in. After a half an hour or so, Harry wandered into the kitchen. After looking around for a moment, Harry decided to make himself some breakfast. As he began puttering around the kitchen, he didn't notice the dark eyes watching him from the doorway.

"Are you positive that is safe for consumption?" Snape sneered once Harry began eating the food he had cooked, startling the younger wizard.

"I've been cooking breakfast since I was a child, it's not that hard." Harry said. "There's some extra if you want some."

"I've already eaten. And after your performance in my class, I don't particularly trust anything you manage to brew, potion or food." Snape sneered. Instead he placed a kettle on the stove and sat down at the table with Harry.

"Cooking is different than potions." Harry said. "I had to learn how to cook if I wanted any peace in my life. Potions just didn't seem important at the time."

"What do you mean 'if you wanted and peace in your life?'" Snape asked. Harry looked up quickly, not thinking that Snape would have picked up on that.

"My relatives made me cook for them." Harry said simply.

"Tell me more about your relatives. I'm beginning to think I had the wrong idea about them." Snape said, remembering some of the memories he had uncovered during their occulmency lessons long ago. He hated being wrong.

"Why do you care?" Harry asked defensively. He disliked talking about his relatives.

"Humor me, Potter. After all, you said you need my help." Snape smirked. Harry sighed, running his hand through his hair.

"They hate magic and anything connected to it. They're frightened of it, really. When I was little, they despised me. They called me a freak and kept me in the cupboard under the stairs. They were determined to keep me as downtrodden as possible. I did a lot of chores and barely got anything. I didn't even get my own clothing, just my fat cousin's hand-me-downs. After I went to Hogwarts, they were frightened of me, however. I got my own room. Things got a bit better. I left that house as soon as I turned seventeen, didn't look back once." Harry said shortly.

"Really Potter, a cupboard under the stairs?" Snape sneered, rolling his eyes. Harry scowled, clenching his fists under the table.

"You know what, I don't know what I was thinking, thinking you would help me. You just want to mess with me some more, don't you?" Harry said angrily. Snape's amusement dissipated, to be replaced by a solemn look.

"No Potter. I suppose that it is not really you who needs my help, but that we both need to help each other, Potter. Neither of us wants to see the Dark Lord succeed. We just need to find a way to get along for a couple weeks." Snape said. Harry had never heard a more rational thought from the man. He thought for a moment before coming up with an idea.

"Do you have a pensieve?" Harry asked. "I know that it's a bit ironic, but perhaps if we shared our memories, we could trust each other." Harry said.

"I do not have one with me, but I can easily procure one within a few days." Snape said.

"Okay." Harry said. The two of them remained in a slightly awkward silence for a few moments before Snape nodded to Harry and swept out of the room.

Over the next couple days Harry and Snape talked about what they were planning to do. Snape made sure Harry knew exactly what he was doing by letting Snape take his virginity. Harry made sure Snape knew that he didn't care. He hadn't sacrificed his entire life and all of his loved ones just to chicken out at the last minute because he wanted his first time to be meaningful. They also found that the years apart had dampened the hatred they felt toward each other. It could also be the massive personality changes the two of them had undergone, though.

A few days later, a package containing a pensieve arrived at the house. Harry decided he would go first, pouring his memories into the pensieve. After a few moments he leaned back, taking a deep breath. He nodded to Snape, and the two of them entered the memories. The first memories were of a young Harry, of his cupboard and the chores and of Dudley making everyone stay away from him.

"So you were telling the truth." Snape said. Harry nodded bitterly. A few more memories of his childhood passed by before Snape stopped him.

"I think before we go further, I should show you my childhood. It was...unpleasant to say the least." Snape said. Harry nodded, and they exited his memories, soon returning to Snape's. Harry watched in well-disguised horror as a young Severus Snape was abused by his father for not being a good pureblood and ridiculed by his peers for being a little different, especially Harry's own father.

"I never realized how bad you had it." Harry said once they were back in the sitting room.

"I think, perhaps, we both have many misconceptions about each other." Snape said.

"Well, we have a few weeks. Maybe we can correct those misconceptions." Harry said.

"Perhaps, Potter. Perhaps."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"I want to know what really happened that day." Harry demanded one evening. Snape didn't have to ask which day he meant. Harry's meaning was painfully obvious. Snape squeezed his eyes shut tight, pinching the bridge of his nose. He would like nothing more than to forget that day forever. He knew that Harry would not rest until he knew what happened, however. And Severus did not even want to contemplate not helping Harry and letting the Dark Lord win.

"When I became a spy, Albus Dumbledore made me swear an oath to ensure my loyalty. It was a complicated oath, with many stipulations. One of them was an oath of loyalty, so I could not defy him and turn back to the Dark Lord. Another was an oath to protect the child of the prophecy. We didn't quite know which child it was then." He began.

"That's why he trusted you so implicitly, isn't it?" Harry asked.

"Yes." Snape said. "You know that both Albus and I are skilled legilimens. What you most likely do not know, is that legilimens can communicate to a certain extent with one another, using their minds. It mostly consists of forming a thought firmly in your mind, and directing the other person's mind toward that thought. It can be abstract at times, but general ideas can be formed." Snape said, waiting for Harry to nod his understanding before continuing.

"The potion he had drank that night was a poison that would slowly and painfully kill him. If he had gotten to me immediately, I could have brewed an antidote. But with the Death Eaters there, it would have been a long time before that mess was cleared up and I could even think of brewing an antidote. He would have died by then. He made it clear that I was to keep my place within the Death Eaters, rather than sacrifice my own life only to have him die anyway. He wanted someone within Voldemort's circle to help if you ever managed to get yourself captured. And here we are." Snape said.

"But your oath would have been broken when Professor Dumbledore died." Harry said.

"What could I have done, Potter?" Snape sneered. "I'm a Death Eater, and I had just killed the most powerful and influential wizard in all of Britain. It was either return to the Dark Lord, or be killed by the ministry or the Order. I promised him I would keep you safe, that the light side would win this war. I don't make promises, Potter, and I never go back on my word." He said harshly.

"Five years." Harry said in amazement. "You've been stuck with them for five years, no excuses to miss any torture sessions. I would never have been able to do it."

"Yes, well this is the path I chose." Snape said, sounding as if he was far away. Harry decided to give the man a little privacy and quietly left the room. He himself had a bit of thinking to do about the man he perceived Snape to be and the man he actually was underneath the spy and the masks.

A few days later, a week before the solstice and almost three weeks after he had been captured, Snape gave in to Harry's demands. He would help Harry in exchange for immunity once Voldemort was defeated. The two of them had shared several long conversations over the past days, and were finding that it wasn't so hard to get along as it had once been. Both of them were feeling much less uncomfortable with what they were going to do.

"How should we do this? You on top or bottom?" Snape asked. Both of them were bisexual, so it didn't matter to them that they were both men.

"To be sure, I say we do it both ways. We need to make sure I'm impure so the spell backfires." Harry said. His cheeks turned slightly red in embarrassment at the topic of conversation. Snape made an indiscernible expression, but his face was blank the next second.

"Alright." He said. "I suggest we move to a bedroom." Harry nodded his agreement. They moved into the closest room, which happened to be the one Harry had been using. They both shed their outer robes, and Harry removed his shirt as well before they both sat on the bed.

"Can I kiss you?" Harry asked after a moment of awkward silence. Snape nodded, and Harry moved closer, kissing Snape slowly at first before becoming a bit bolder. While he might not have had sex, it didn't mean he was completely inexperienced. Harry decided he would be leading this first encounter, and began to undo the buttons of Snape's shirt. He straddled the other man's lap, rubbing their hips together to get them both aroused.

It wasn't passionate or romantic, but it sure as hell felt good. Snape ended up topping, insisting that he was more experienced. It was awkward and slightly painful at first, but as he found the right angle and the pleasure intensified it grew less so. Snape was careful not to hurt Harry too much, and it ended somewhat quickly. They cleaned up and Snape left the room, returning to his own bedroom.

Harry felt oddly disappointed when he was left alone in the bed. He knew that he had said it didn't need to be romantic, but he had lied. He had just given up his virginity to a man he barely knew, and up until a weeks or so ago had hated with every fibre of his being. And the worst thing was, he was beginning to care for the bitter old man.

During their conversations, very little had been off limits. Snape had been feeling guilty about what he was going to do, and Harry felt as if he was using Snape. So the two of them had decided the least they could do was tell the truth when asked a question, no matter how personal. Topics had ranged from their childhoods, to Dumbledore, to Voldemort, and everything in between. Harry had been horrified to find himself slowly becoming fond of the older man with each new revelation.

Harry rolled over when tears began to form in his eyes and buried his face in the pillows, determined not to fall into despair. It had to be done. This way, he could rid the world of Voldemort. It was a necessary sacrifice. He had made so many other sacrifices, one more couldn't damage him too much more. Maybe once Voldemort was gone, maybe then he could finally find someone to love him. That was all he had ever wanted, someone to love him. Unconditionally.

A few nights later, Harry dragged Snape back into his room and once more initiated things with a kiss. It was less awkward than the first night, and Harry took a turn on top.

"Snape?" Harry asked as the older man untangle his limbs from Harry's and moved toward the bathroom to clean up.

"Yes Potter?" he asked.

"Can we call each other by our first names?" Harry asked. Snape was silent a moment before nodding his consent.

For the next few days, Snape avoided Harry. He felt ashamed at what he had done. He had tainted someone so pure, and he had actually enjoyed it. Not only that, but he had crept back to Harry's room to make sure he was okay, and had seen him crying. He knew the boy didn't know what he was getting himself into. Foolish Gryffindor, always sacrificing himself for everyone else. He figured they would both be better off forgetting those encounters.

The night before Snape was to return Harry to Voldemort, Harry got sick of being avoided. Thoughts of the coming events, of the possibility that he might die tomorrow made him braver than he would normally be. Determined, he forced his way into the older man's room, crawling into bed beside him. He pinned Snape down and demanded to know why he was being avoided.

"I didn't think you'd want to see me." Snape answered gruffly.

"Are you really that blind?" Harry asked.

"And just what do you mean by that?" Snape sneered.

"We've both changed, Severus. Why can't you see that I don't hate you anymore?" Harry asked.

"What?" Severus asked in awe.

"I don't hate you." Harry repeated. "I don't know why, but something's changed. We're not who we used to be. I...I think I'm beginning to like you." Harry confessed. Severus closed his eyes tight, pushing Harry off of him and turning away.

"Don't." he said.

"And why not? Why can't you believe yourself to be worthy of another's affections?"

"Because I'm not." Severus said harshly. "I'm a horrible person who's done horrible things. You'd be best advised to just forget me, let them throw me in Azkaban."

"You don't know how wrong you are." Harry said softly, turning Severus' head so he could kiss the stubborn man.

"Harry..." Severus whispered.

"Don't." Harry said. "Just... just let me have this one moment, if nothing else." Severus was silent for a moment, staring into Harry's eyes, reading the truth written there. Slowly he leaned toward those green eyes, kissing Harry softly. Harry wrapped his arms tightly around Severus, as if the man would disappear if he let go. Soon clothing was shed and soft moans filled the room as the two of them made love.

Somehow, this time, it was so much more than the times before. Before, it had been sex, pure and simple. This time it was slow and loving. It was truly "making love," not just sex. Afterward, neither of them made a move to leave the bed, instead staying tangled together.

"Why do you hate me?" Harry asked in a whisper as they lay together after orgasm.

"I don't." Severus said.

"Why did you then?" he asked.

"Because I was an idiot who couldn't let go of a schoolboy grudge." Severus said. There was silence for a moment.

"I don't hate you either." Harry repeated once more, rolling onto his side, facing away from Severus to hide the tears once more falling down his face. With a soft sigh Severus moved closer to Harry, spooning him and wrapping one arm around him. He pressed a kiss to the back of Harry's neck, holding him close. The two of them soon fell asleep together.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

In the morning both of them knew what had to happen. Harry slipped back into the clothing he had been wearing at the time of his capture and went back to the dungeon cell, just incase anyone came by. Severus slowly got dressed in his Death Eater robes and prepared the portkey that would bring them back to Voldemort. Entering Harry's cell, he bound Harry the same way as when they had arrived.

"Severus..." Harry started to say.

"Don't call me that!" He snapped.

"What?" Harry asked in surprise. Did Severus regret what they had done?

"I...I didn't mean it that way." He said in a softer tone. "If you slip up and call me that once we leave here, the Dark Lord will suspect something and everything could be lost."

"I won't slip up, I swear. Voldemort will die tonight." Harry said fiercely.

"Five minutes until the portkey activates." Severus said in a whisper. Looking down at Harry he could see the fear he was trying, and failing, to hide, deep withing his expressive green eyes. Slowly he wrapped his arms around Harry, leaning down to kiss him softly. They stayed locked in that gentle kiss for several minutes, their bodies pressed tightly together, before Severus wrenched himself away, composing himself quickly before the portkey activated.

As soon as they arrived at Voldemort's main hideout, Harry was whisked away by other Death Eaters to prepare for the ritual. Things seemed to pass in a blur as he was cleaned and dressed in a ceremonial robe of white, only catching a glimpse of Severus here and there. Before he realized it, he was being tied to an altar that had been erected in the center of a remote field, protected by wards. Voldemort slowly approached him, his wand in one hand and a dagger in the other, a smirk on his not quite human face.

"Tonight, my loyal followers, things shall take a turn for the better. At last I have the Chosen One, the Great Harry Potter, in my clutches. And this time he shall not escape. Tonight, he dies. Tomorrow, we take the ministry. The day after, the world!" Voldemort shouted to his followers. A great cheer went up from the crowd, and Harry's eyes locked on the one figure who was not celebrating. He could see the dark eyes behind the mask, and knew it was Severus.

Nagini circled around the altar as Voldemort began chanting in what Harry could only guess was Latin, and his followers formed a circle around him. Harry could feel the magic begin to swirl around the clearing. The magic was perceptively dark and evil, waiting for the innocent blood it had been promised through the ritual. Harry's blood would be sacrificed to placate the evil, to make it more controllable by Voldemort.

Voldemort slowly dragged the dagger up each of Harry's legs, then up his arms, always toward his chest, the center of his body and his magic. Harry writhed in pain as the cuts were made and his own magic was forcibly drawn to the center of his body. He could feel the heavy, oppressive dark magic surrounding them and was amazed that someone hadn't picked up on it despite the wards that were obviously protecting them. Harry's heart beat fast, his breath coming in sharp, short burst as Voldemort neared the end of the ritual. Harry prayed that the ritual needed innocent blood, or else all would be lost.

Thin lines of blood began to stain the white robe as Voldemort placed the dagger in the center of Harry's forehead. He slowly dragged it downward, barely cutting the skin, over Harry's face and throat until he reached the center of Harry's chest. Harry's heart beat fast, adrenaline and fear coursing through his veins. As Voldemort reached the height of the chant, he pulled back his arm and plunged the dagger into Harry's chest, releasing the ball of magic that had been gathering in Harry.

At that moment several things happened. Harry's magic left his body and combined with the other magic swirling around them before bouncing back into him, rather than going to Voldemort as it should have. The dark magic violently rejected Harry's blood and magic, angry that the sacrifice had been impure. The magic that had been swirling around them tighter and tighter was released, throwing the circle of Death Eaters backwards several feet. The dark clouds overhead released a powerful bolt of lightning and a long, loud clap of thunder. The lightning hit ground between Harry and Voldemort, throwing the dark wizard backward, burning both of them and disintegrating the bonds holding Harry to the alter.

After regaining his senses, Harry stumbled to where Voldemort had dropped his wand, running on autopilot. He knew what needed to be done. He pointed Voldemort's own wand shakily at the snake now circling Voldemort's prone form. A quick cutting hex and the snake's body was cut in two. Next he focused his attention on Voldemort, who was still partially stunned from the lightning since it had hit ground closer to him, almost directly under his feet. He was quickly recovering, however. Harry gathered all of his anger and hatred, toward everyone and everything, placing as much of it behind those two fateful words as possible.

"_Avada Kedavra_." he whispered. A bolt of what looked like green lightning shot out of the wand and straight into Voldemort's chest. He gave Harry a stunned look before falling back to the ground, motionless. Harry stared, disbelieving, at the body of his rival. It didn't last long, however, as there was a loud crash as the wards came tumbling down, and the a series of pops as people began apparating all over. The ministry had caught wind of the massive amounts of Dark Magic and sent aurors at the same time as the Death Eaters tried to escape.

Harry coughed harshly, surprised when he brought his hand away from his mouth covered in blood. Reality seemed to slam into him with massive amounts of pain, forcing him to his knees, and he remembered the dagger imbedded in his chest. A dark figure fell to its knees beside him, ripping off a mask and hood. Harry realized it was Severus as the man pushed him to lay down on his back. Brushing the hair off of Harry's forehead in a surprisingly intimate gesture, he deftly pulled the dagger out of Harry's body. He pulled out a potion from somewhere in his cloak and poured it into the wound. It began to bubble and Harry stared in amazement as the flesh began to knit itself back together.

"Drink." Severus said roughly, holding a potion to Harry's mouth. Harry drank without question. At this point he didn't care if it saved him or killed him as long as it stopped the pain.

Severus watched with fear as Harry's eyes slowly closed and he fell unconscious. Before he could check for a pulse an auror pulled him away, claiming he was under arrest.

**XxXxXxXxXxXxX**

Two weeks later, Harry woke up in the unfamiliar surroundings of St. Mungo's. He sat sharply up in bed as his memories returned, searching wildly around before realizing he was no longer on the battle field. His movements had set off alarms that sent several healers rushing into his room, and soon he was enveloped by the chaos of healers checking him over, and afterward a steady stream of well-wishers and congratulations.

"How long have I been in here?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione when they had their turn to visit.

"You've been unconscious for two weeks Harry. You really almost died this time." Hermione said, tears in her eyes. Harry's eyes widened. Two weeks? What if something had happened to Severus?

"What happened to Snape?" Harry asked.

"The Greasy Git? He's in Azkaban. They sentenced him to the kiss for Dumbledore's murder. They said he was trying to finish you off too." Ron said. Harry's heart skipped a beat.

"Has it been administered yet?" Harry asked.

"No, his date for the kiss is in a couple days." Hermione answered. Harry swallowed hard and nodded, changing the subject. Soon enough Hermione and Ron were being told to leave as visiting hours were over.

Harry wasted no time in changing out of his hospital clothing. It was slightly difficult as his chest was still very tender. He noticed with disdain that a new scar had been made on his body, one that would most likely become famous as well. This new scar was also in the shape of a lightning bolt, almost identical to the one on his forehead, but larger and in the center of his chest.

Harry scowled at the new scar and changed into his clothing, sweeping out of his room and the hospital. Several healers tried to stop him, but he ignored them all. He simply told them that he felt fine and he was leaving. He had some business to attend to.

Once in the reception room of the hospital, Harry strode purposely to one of the fireplaces, flooing straight into the ministry. He didn't bother checking in with the security guard, instead sweeping through the hallways to the minister's office. Several people tried to stop him, but he brushed past them all.

"Scrimgeour!" Harry bellowed, throwing open the door to the minister's office.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, what a surprise. You're feeling better then, I assume?" the minister asked, seemingly unfazed by the furious wizard. "What brings you here today?"

"I demand that Severus Snape be pardoned of his crimes and released from Azkaban immediately." Harry said firmly.

"On what claim?" Scrimgeour asked. "The man is a Death Eater, he murdered Dumbledore. He appeared to be trying to finish you off when he was arrested. The man is clearly guilty."

"He was saving my life!" Harry hissed "If it weren't for him, I'd be dead and Voldemort would probably be making his move to overthrow the ministry right about now!" Harry shouted.

"One good act does not make up for his other crimes, Mr. Potter." Scrimgeour said.

"He spied for years, giving up his own life and happiness to save the lives of others. You have previous testimony from Albus Dumbledore himself, and I will personally back up those claims."

"That still does not make up for the murder of Albus Dumbledore. The public will be outraged. They have been calling for Dumbledore's murderer to be captured, and now they finally have him." Scrimgeour said. Harry was almost wishing Fudge was still the minister. He would have been so much easier to intimidate.

"I have never cared what the public thought, but you, on the other hand, do." Harry said slyly, his eyes narrowed. "Release Severus Snape or I will publicly speak out against the ministry. I will do exactly the opposite of what you wanted me to do back in sixth year."

"Are you threatening me, Mr. Potter?" Scrimgeour asked, fixing Harry with a calculating stare.

"Yes." Harry hissed, staring him in the eye. Finally Scrimgeour looked away, and Harry knew he had won.

"I suppose, if you are willing to take full responsibility for the man, an agreement can be reached." Scrimgeour sighed finally, sensing that Harry would not let this matter go. Harry nodded his head and soon he was filling out piles of paperwork to get Severus released.

A few hours later Harry was furiously sweeping down the halls of Azkaban prison. He found himself immensely glad that most of the Dementors were gone from the prison, only a dozen or so were left after the rest joined with Voldemort and were destroyed. He stopped short at one of the cells, ordering a nervous auror to open the door. He dismissed the man and slowly walked toward the back of the cell where a lone figure was huddled in the corner.

"Severus?" Harry asked, kneeling beside the man. His robe was the same one he had been wearing when Harry last saw him, the voluminous black Death Eater robes, slightly torn and splattered with what Harry realized was his own blood. Severus was sitting in the far corner of the cell, his back to the wall, knees pulled up to his chest. His head was bowed and his hair fell forward to block his face from view. There might not be many dementors left, but the few that remained had certainly taken their toll on Severus.

Harry had never seen the man look so weak or defeated, and it pained him greatly to see the proud man reduced to this. He reached out a shaking hand to brush back the curtain of black hair, desperate to see his eyes, to see if there was still some hope, some life left in those beautiful orbs. Severus looked up slowly when he felt Harry touch him, and the green eyed wizard let out a sigh of relief when the black eyes met him with a glint of anger.

"You promised you'd keep me out of Azkaban, Potter." Severus sneered, his voice a bit gruff.

"I was a little preoccupied with the gaping hole in my chest." Harry replied, his voice breaking slightly as he held back tears of both joy and sorrow. There was silence for a moment before Severus reached up, tangling his fingers in Harry's hair and pulling his head down until their lips were millimeters apart.

"Next time I won't be so forgiving." he whispered before kissing Harry. It was chaste, barely more than a bush of lips, but somehow it felt so much more intimate than anything they had done before. The hands in Harry's hair traveled down his neck and back, pulling Harry closer to the dark figure as his own arms wrapped around Severus in a desperate hug. He had no idea how to express his fleeting, fledgling emotions in words, but Severus understood. The way he clung to Severus, silent tears running down his face told Severus everything Harry could not put into words, even the things Harry himself didn't quite understand yet.

"Let's get out of here." Harry whispered once he had calmed himself down. Severus nodded slightly, allowing Harry help him to his feet and keep his slender hand clasped tightly in Harry's more calloused one as they walked out of the cell and out of Azkaban for good.


End file.
